Chef Chen (Northern Dim Sum) - Irvine, CA

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD800is.)

It's always difficult when a favorite restaurant closes. There's emptiness in your soul from the removal of something familiar and comforting. A place that used to bring you pleasure is gone, taking with it all the small memories housed within. Given the high failure rate of restaurant ventures, it's an ache all too familiar to foodies.


(Chef Chen took over New Shanghai's home for over a decade.)

When our beloved New Shanghai closed, Cat and I found ourselves adrift, castaways without the safe harbor of our usual Saturday morning brunch spot. For a while, we flitted from eatery to eatery, searching for something to fill the hole in our weekend routine. We were unsuccessful. It's hard to find a replacement for a restaurant you frequented for over nine years. Yet, all good things must come to an end. Cat and I eventually accepted New Shanghai's departure and turned to its successor, Chef Chen, with open arms.


(Stylishly redecorated.)

Serving a blend of Shanghai and Taiwanese cuisine dishes, Chef Chen has been repeatedly recommended to me by my readers. Its collection of authentic dishes rarely found in this part of Southern California have generated favorable buzz amongst the local Chinese community. There are some who contend that Chef Chen is the best Chinese restaurant in Irvine, placing it squarely in a head-to-head, North vs. South battle with reigning champion China Garden.


(Cashew Nut Chicken)

It's a fight that Chef Chen is more than capable of holding its own in, with a selection of superb Northern Dim Sum dishes and a stunning number of entrees. Given the sheer size of Chef Chen's menu, this review will focus on Chef Chen's Northern-style dim sum. I'll follow up with a review on their entrees at a later date.



Cat and I usually visit Chef Chen for our weekend brunch. When we do, the Niu Rou Dao Xiao Tang Mian (Beef and Knife-shaved Noodle Soup) is a must have. Beef noodle soup is to the Chinese what pho is to the Vietnamese; a quintessential breakfast or late night snack. Chef Chen's contains generous chunks of beef slowly simmered in a complex stock perfumed with star anise, cloves, cinnamon, and other spices. What make this soup special are the thick ribbons of handmade noodles, made by shaving them from a ball of dough directly into a wok of boiling water. The texture, tender, yet chewy and resilient, is perfect for slurping with the flavorful broth and can only be mastered after years of study.



Since rice is difficult to grow in northern China, the cuisine focuses on breads, noodles, and other wheat-based products. This Jing Dong Rou Bing (Jing Dong-style Meat Cake) is a flat meat pastry filled with a mixture of marinated pork, ginger, scallions, and other seasonings. The flavor is reminiscent of potstickers, although the thinness of the pie provides greater surface area for frying and more crunch.



Dumplings in Northern Dim Sum are made with wheat-flour wrappers, as opposed to the rice or egg wrappers favored in the South, and seasoned much more aggressively. Chef Chen's Hong You Chao Shou (Red Oil Wontons) are juicy parcels of pork and shrimp served in a thick, sweet and spicy sauce. Despite the lurid crimson oil, the heat is mild and easily enjoyed.



A must-order at Chef Chen is the Xiao Long Tang Bao (Steamed Soup Dumplings). Their delicate, resilient skins somehow manage to contain a prodigious amount of unctuous broth, which burst forth like geysers when their protective membranes are punctured. The nuggets of meat floating in each pouchy prison are almost an afterthought.



The undisputed kings of Chef Chen's Northern Dim Sum lineup are the Niu Rou Xian Bing (Beef Rolls). Flaky Chinese flatbread, similar to croissants in richness of consistency, is rolled around slices of five-spice beef, shredded scallions, cilantro, and hoisin sauce. The freshness of the herbs, the flavorful beef, and the tender bread fit together perfectly. It's almost enough to make me forget what I'm missing. Almost.


Chef Chen - You can never replace the loss of a favorite restaurant, but sometime what follows can be just as special in its own way.


Bill:

Cashew Nut Chicken - 7.99
Beef and Knife-shaved Noodle Soup - 5.99
Jing Dong-style Meat Cake - 5.99
Red Oil Wontons - 4.99
Steamed Soup Dumplings - 4.99
Beef Rolls - 6.99


Flavor: A
Ambience: A
Service: A
ROI: A

Overall: A


Chef Chen
5408-B Walnut Ave.
Irvine, CA 92612
1-949-786-8898

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A&J Restaurant (Ban Mu Yuan) - Irvine, CA

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD100 and Canon PowerShot SD800is.)

The clink of chopsticks against plastic bowls. The sweet sizzle of frying dough. Happy chatter. The dull grind of rickety chairs being pulled up to tables. The muffled roar of passing traffic. Gossip. Excited laughter.



Street dining in Asia is unlike anything that can be experienced in the West. Whole families of hawkers devote generations to creating, refining, and protecting secret recipes dished up on demand from yoke-carried braziers, hand-drawn carts, and portable outdoor restaurants that can be set up and broken down in mere minutes. You see them everywhere, drawing commuters and travelers with alluring trails of fragrant smoke.



No Asian county is without them; not Japan, Taiwan, Malaysia, Vietnam, or Korea. Boundless China, with over 27 ethnic tribes and 8 Treasured Cuisines is practically bursting with glorious regional street fare few Americans have ever sampled. Fortunately for Orange County residents, Irvine is home to A&J Restaurant (Ban Mu Yuan), a branch of an internationally popular Taiwanese chain specializing in Northern Chinese street food. Within the walls of this humble cafe, authentic dishes are served up in a no frills, no fuss atmosphere.


Niu Rou Shao Bing (Chinese Sesame Bread with Five Spice Braised Beef)

China's Northern provinces are too arid and cold for rice cultivation. As such, their cuisine is characterized by a focus on hardier grains, such as wheat, millet, barley, and sorghum. Without rice, different types of bread, dumplings, noodles, and porridges evolved. The by-products of these grains, such as hay, were well-suited to feeding goats and cattle, which could also survive by grazing. Beef and mutton became the central sources of protein, and are found in most Northern Chinese dishes. The food at A&J Restaurant reflects these regional characteristics.



Wood is less than abundant in Northern China, so ovens are virtually unknown. Instead of baking, Northern Chinese breads and dumplings are fried in woks, effectively utilizing brief cooking times over intense direct heat. The results are stunning. Flaky breads with amazing textures. Juicy dumplings with resilient, yet crispy wrappers. A&J's Xian Rou Guo Tie (Pan Fried Pork Dumplings) are superb examples of the fried starch arts. You'd be hard pressed to find more perfect pot stickers.



Instead of rice, which is the universal starch in most parts of China, noodles are the staple food of the North. The Chinese have as many forms of pasta as the Italians, the most popular of which is Niu Rou Mian (Beef Noodle Soup), a dish that originated in the northern province of Sichuan. A&J's Hong Shao Ge Ban Mian (Sichuan Beef & Tendon Noodle Soup) comes with tender chunks of braised beef and tendon bobbing in a fiery stock. Diners have their choice between thin, machine-made noodles and thick, hand-cut noodles. Always go with the hand cut noodles. You can't beat the taste and texture folded into each slippery strand.



For those who miss it, A&J Restaurant offers several entrees that are served with rice. However, their Xiao Mi Zhou (Plain Millet & Corn Congee) is a more traditional accompaniment.


Hong You Du Si (Sliced Beef Tripe with Red Sauce)

Congee is a thick porridge of stewed grains normally eaten with tapas-like dishes of cold cuts that are another of A&J's specialties. Chewy curls of beef tripe drizzled with fiery chili oil. Meltingly soft beef tendon is a pungent garlic sauce. Braised pigs' feet, unctuous knobs of meat and fat clinging tenuously to bone. Cheap and flavorful, each of A&J's many small plates adds depth to their comforting millet porridge.


Kao Fu (Vegetarian Delight)

Like rice, most vegetables also have limited survivability in the harsh northern climes, which is why the cuisine features starch and meat. Fortunately for vegetarians, soy beans are tough little buggers. Vegan meat substitutes made from soy or wheat abound. A&J offers a variety of small plates suitable for strict Buddhists, earth children, and other meat eschewers. Cucumber salad in a mustard sauce guaranteed to melt every hair in your nostrils. Delicately braised wheat gluten, soybean, and mushrooms in a rich sauce. Springy sheets of bean curd skin punched up with tangy pickled mustard greens. A gentle salad of smoked tofu, slices celery, and shredded carrot. It's all authentic and delicious.


A&J Restaurant - Bringing the flavors of Northern Chinese street fare to Orange County. Close your eyes and imagine the hustle and bustle of Beijing.


Bill:

Niu Rou Shao Bing (Chinese Sesame Bread with Five Spice Braised Beef) - 2.50
Xian Rou Guo Tie (Pan Fried Pork Dumplings) - 5.75
Hong Shao Ge Ban Mian (Sichuan Beef & Tendon Noodle Soup) - 5.75
Xiao Mi Zhou (Plain Millet & Corn Congee) - 0.75
Hong You Du Si (Sliced Beef Tripe with Red Sauce) - 1.95
Kao Fu (Vegetarian Delight) - 1.95


Flavor: A
Ambience: B
Service: B
ROI: A+

Overall: A-


A&J Restaurant
14805 Jeffrey Rd., Ste. D
Irvine, CA 92618
1-949-786-3585

Other locations:
A&J has branches scattered across Taiwan, China, and the US, including locations in Cupertino (CA), Rockville (MD), and Annandale (VA).


Read my friend JoanH's review, chinese/mall food: i strongly recommend BAN MU YUAN, on A Hungry Girl's Guide to Taipei.


My good buddy Kirk from mmm-yoso!!! hit up the Irvine A&J last year. Check out his review, Road Trip: A & J Restaurant - Irvine(OC).

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La Cuisson (Ton-Ton's Journey: Vancouver 2007 Part 10) - Richmond, BC

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD800is.

Read the rest of Ton-Ton's Journey: Vancouver 2007.)

When you think of Asians, do you think of coffee? Probably not. The regions that come to mind are most likely Europe, Latin America, and the Middle East. Even the United States has a place on the coffee map as the home of Starbucks, the largest corporate coffee chain in the world. Yet, Taiwan has developed its own take on coffee and cafes that is every bit as refined.



Until Cat and I stumbled across La Cuisson in the Vancouver suburb of Richmond, I had no idea that Taiwanese coffee cafes had arrived in North America. Although the Taiwanese Bubble Tea craze successfully swept the continent in the late 1990's, the United States had cafe traditions of its own too firmly entrenched at that point to make Taiwanese cafes viable. Who could compete with Starbucks, Peet's, Dietrich's, and Seattle's Best (all now owned by Starbucks)?


(Trying to blend in.)

Since Cat had never been to a Taiwanese cafe, we decided to have a light dinner. In addition to freshly brewed coffee, La Cuisson also offers other hot beverages, cookies, panini, and desserts. Like bubble tea shops, they have a startling number of snack and dining options.



For her beverage, Cat decided on a rich cup of Hot Chocolate to ward off the chill Canadian night. Made with frothed milk, it was artfully presented with a chocolate treble clef.



She also ordered a Maple Waffle as a salute to Canada, and since she likes waffles. Her confection was crisp and airy, and the maple syrup that accompanied it was unsurprisingly top notch.


(Decisions decisions.)

A self-admitted coffee snob, I was there for coffee and coffee I would have. In addition to a good selection of quality beans, what I really liked about La Cuisson's menu was the detailed Chinese and English descriptions explaining the origin and flavor profile of each coffee offered. I also liked how each individual order was ground and prepared using the method that best suited it. The attention to detail showed me how serious La Cuisson is about providing quality coffee.



The Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee caught my eye for both its $15 CAD price tag and eloquently worded description. According to the menu (typos and all):

"The original Blue Mountain coffee bean is origin from Wallenford Estate, Jamaica. Since it is rarely produced, its price tends to be higher than most other coffee beans, and this is why many coffee shops do not offer this extraordinary coffee bean. Blue Mountain Blend in our store is mixed according to the characteristics from the original Blue Mountain coffee bean: the body of sweetness and aroma with a hint of bright acidity. This blend is great for coffee-lovers to experience and enjoy."

It was, simply put, the best cup of coffee I'd ever had. Would I have it again? Maybe on special occasions or to celebrate something. $15 CAD is a very steep price. I'm fairly sure nothing on the Starbucks menu even comes close in either quality or price.



To compliment the coffee, I had a Crème Caramel, a decadent pillow of custard shrouded in warm caramel sauce. It had just the right amount of sweetness to offset the mellow sharpness of my Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee.



Ton-Ton decided to have Cookies, which he generously shared with us. $2.95 CAD got him a plate of six biscuits. There were delicate maple pecan shortbread cookies that melted away in the mouth, chewy pecan tartlets redolent with the aroma of caramel, and sugar cookies perfect in their simplicity. It, like La Cuisson, was meant to be experienced with friends.


La Cuisson - A great place for coffee and dessert, or for a light dinner. I hope something similar opens up down here in Southern California.


Flavor: A
Ambience: A
Service: A
ROI: B-

Overall: A-


Bill (in Canadian dollars):

Hot Chocolate - 3.50
Maple Waffle - 4.95
Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee - 15.00
Crème Caramel - 4.00
Cookies - 2.95


La Cuisson
8368 Capstan Way, Unit #1326
Richmond, BC V6X
1-604-207-2589
Website

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San Bei Ji (Three Cup Chicken/Basil Chicken) - [Cooking]

Suanne from Chow Times recently posted a great recipe for Hong Shao Ji (Red Cooked Chicken), a dish from the Fujian province of China made by braising chicken in an infused soy sauce broth. It reminded me of a similar dish, San Bei Ji (Three Cup Chicken/Basil Chicken), which is extremely popular in Taiwan. Since roughly 70% of Taiwanese, including myself, are ultimately descended from immigrants from the Fujian province, the two recipes use many of the same ingredients. San Bei Ji is a slow-braised fricassee also made using an infused soy sauce broth, which is reduced down to an unctuous gravy and served with the chicken. It's called "Three Cup Chicken" because the basic recipe requires a cup of soy sauce, a cup of rice wine, and a cup of sesame oil. It's sometimes translated as "Basil Chicken" since the Taiwanese version includes copious amounts of fresh Thai basil. My version of San Bei Ji takes the traditional recipe taught to me by my mother and cuts out a good amount of fat by combining it with some French cooking techniques usually used for dishes like Coq Au Vin. I've also added a few extra ingredients for added punch. The resulting San Bei Ji is full of flavor, but much healthier. I consider it Taiwanese Coq Au Vin.



Gear:

1 large wok or stainless steel saucepan (A wok is recommended.)
1 stainless steel Chinese ladle or spatula (Your preference.)
1 large, shallow container
1 long-handled strainer or "spider"


Ingredients:

3 lbs of chicken drumsticks (Preferably free-range organic.)

(First cup, soy sauce mix)
1/2 cups of soy sauce
1/4 cup of superior dark soy
1/4 cup of kecap manis

(Second cup)
1 cup of rice wine

(Third cup, reduced fat)
1/4 cup of sesame oil
3/4 cup of rice wine (additonal)

3 cups of all-purpose flour (For dredging.)
3 tbsp of Chinese five spice powder
6 cups of vegetable oil (For deep-frying.)
1 tbsp of vegetable oil (For cooking.)
3 heads of garlic
6 Thai bird chilies
A 4-inch piece of ginger root
6 green onion stalks
3 cups of Thai basil leaves


Prep work:



Thoroughly wash the green onions and Thai basil in cold, lightly salted water. Remove the Thai basil leaves from their stems. Discard the stems. Set the leaves aside.

Remove the roots and tips from the green onion stalks. Chop the stalks into 1-inch segments. Set aside with the Thai basil leaves.



Separate and peel the garlic cloves. Set aside.



Roughly chop the ginger root into 1/2-inch chunks. Finely chop the Thai bird chilies. Set aside.



Mix the flour and five spice powder together in the shallow container. Add the chicken drumsticks and toss until each piece of chicken is thoroughly coated. Shake the excess flour off of the drumsticks and set the drumsticks aside.


Instructions:



Using your wok, heat the 6 cups of vegetable oil. I don't actually use an oil thermometer, so I can't tell you the exact temperature of the oil. The heat setting I use is medium-high, and I let the oil heat for at least ten minutes. Faint wisps of smoke should come off of it. If you stick a wooden chopstick into the oil, small air bubbles should gather on the chopstick fairly quickly. You can also drop a small piece of bread into the oil, which should bubble rapidly. If the bread burns quickly, the oil is too hot. If it doesn't bubble rapidly, it's too cool.



In small batches, deep-fry the chicken and the garlic until light brown. Don't leave either ingredient in the oil too long. You're not trying to cook them, just get some nice caramelization. Strain each batch of chicken or garlic, then set aside.

If you don't like deep-frying, you can also heat a few tablespoons of oil in a large, non-stick pan and brown the chicken and garlic in small batches. I like the depth of flavor deep-frying gives. Plus, we're cutting 3/4 of a cup of sesame oil from the classic recipe. However, pan-browning the chicken and garlic is much healthier, and you'll still get most of the flavor.

Set the frying oil aside in an appropriate container to cool. Later, you can strain it and store it in an airtight vessel until the next time you need to fry something. Wipe your wok clean with a paper towel. Use chopsticks, the ladle, or a pair of tongs to hold and move the towel. Be safe.



Heat your wok on high heat for several minutes. You want the metal as hot as your stove can make it. I wouldn't recommend anything with plastic handles or a Teflon coat for this style of cooking. Add 1 tbsp of fresh vegetable oil and use the ladle to spread it around the bottom of your wok.

Once the oil starts smoking, add the ginger and chilies. Stir rapidly for a few seconds using the ladle, coating each piece with oil. Then add the 1/4 cup of sesame oil. Keep stirring the aromatics as the oil comes back up to temperature.

Once the oil begins bubbling rapidly, add the rice wine, soy sauce mixture, chicken, garlic, and enough of the water to just cover the chicken. Let the liquid come to a boil, then drop the heat to medium or medium-low and let it simmer for 20 minutes until the sauce thickens and reduces by half.



Gently fold in the green onions and Thai basil leaves. Let simmer for a five more minutes before removing the wok from the heat. The chicken should be falling-off-the-bone tender.



Best served with steamed rice or Chinese noodles. You'll probably end up with more sauce than you need, so freeze the leftover liquid and use for pasta at a later date.

Good eating!


-=Addendum 02/27/2007 at 1:09AM=-

I'm adding my simpler, classic San Bei Gi recipe to this post for my good buddy, Elmomonster. Please try them both out and decide which one you like best.

3 cloves of garlic, cleaned and minced
1 bunch of Thai Basil, stems removed
1 tbps of vegetable oil
1 cup of rice wine
1 cup of soy sauce
1 cup of sesame oil
1 chicken, chopped into one-inch pieces with bones

Heat the vegetable oil to smoking in the wok. Add the garlic and stir fry for 30 seconds. Add the rice wine, sesame oil, soy sauce, and chicken. Bring to a boil, then drop the heat to medium and simmer for 20 minutes or until the sauce reduces by at least half. Remove from heat, stir in the Thai basil leaves, and serve.

Good eating!

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Chinese New Year 2007 - [Crazies]

(Apologies for the picture quality. My camera doesn't play nicely with low light.)

Xing Nian Kuai Le! Gong Xi Fa Cai!

I love Chinese New Year. In my family, it was the one major celebration we had, rolling together Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the Western New Year. It was a time of gathering and celebration. On super special years, we'd even fly back to Taiwan to celebrate with extended family and relatives.

Chinese New Year began as a festival in honor of surviving the previous year. As legend has it, a fierce beast named Nian (Year) would come out every twelve months to ravage the Chinese countryside. Its favorite food was humans, who had no real defense against it. However, Nian was frightened by bright colors, loud noises, and red things. So at the end of the twelve month cycle, the people would decorate liberally using the color red, set off fireworks, and make a lot of noise in order to scare the monster away. A great feast was then held to celebrate surviving monster for another year. The phrase for celebrating the New Year, Guo Nian, literally means being passed over by the year.



Since my parents had decided to spend Chinese New Year in Taiwan this year, and since my siblings were busy studying for exams, Cat and I were on our own. I whipped up a big spread for the two of us for Chinese New Years Eve on Saturday. I thought I'd share some of the foods and traditions of my family with you.

The Chinese New Year feast is typically prepared during the late afternoon. As the sun begins to set, the table is laid with all kinds of delicious and symbolic delicacies, and the doors and windows of the house are thrown open to welcome good fortune. The family assembles in front of the table, dressed in finery with at least one red item of clothing, since red frightens away demons and malicious spirits.



Before the food can be eaten, however, it needs to be offered to our ancestors. Three cups of rice wine are poured; one in remembrance of the past, one in thanks for the present, and one in hope for the future. Three special sticks of incense are lit to be used in prayer to our ancestors. As the smoke from the incense rises to Heaven, it carries with it our fond wishes for those who went before us, our thanks for their blessing and protection, and our request that they continue to watch over us and intervene for us in the court of the Emperor of Heaven.

Once the prayer is done, the incense is stuck upright in a bowl of rice and left to burn. Rice is used since it's the most important staple grain in Chinese culture, and must be provided as part of the offering. It is believed that the spirits of our ancestors have followed the smoke from the incense back to partake in the New Year feast spiritually. While the incense burns down, the family waits in respectful silence. This time is traditionally used for memories of dear, departed relatives, and for personal introspection. Once the incense is finished burning, the festivities begin!



We've always celebrated the New Year with either Luo Buo Gao (Daikon Cake) or Yu Tou Gao (Taro Cake). This year, I went with the Luo Buo Gao, which is a savory, steamed cake made using shredded daikon, rice flour, Chinese sausage, and Chinese dried shrimp. The cake is cut into squares and fried before serving to give is a nice, crisp surface. If there's a symbolic meaning to these cakes, I'm not aware of it. It's just a family tradition. This Luo Buo Gao was purchased at Kawaii Bakery, a Taiwanese bakery near my office in Huntington Beach, and was particularly tasty.



A whole chicken, including the head and feet, is always served. The chicken represents complete prosperity for the entire family, and can not be cut. I picked this Jiang You Ji (Soy Sauce Chicken) up from the Sam Woo in Irvine. It's one of my favorite dishes.



Another traditional must have on the New Year table is a whole fish, including the head and tail. The fish represents abundance with a play on words from the phrase Nian nian you yu (Abundance throughout the year). The words for "abundance" and "fish" sound the same, so it's believed that if you eat fish during the New Year, you'll experience abundance throughout the year. I like to use shisamo (Japanese gravid smelt), which I lightly brush with rice bran oil and broil in the oven. I sprinkle the fish with sea salt before plating.



Dumplings are always eaten during the New Year for two reasons; the act of wrapping them is seen as similar to wrapping up luck and the finished product resembles ancient Chinese gold ingots. I've always gone with store-bought, since wrapping dumplings without family, read as "without slave labor", takes too long. The yellow dumplings have egg wrappers around a ground beef filling. The white dumplings have wrappers made from cuttlefish skin surrounding a filling of cuttlefish paste.

My family has traditionally enjoyed our dumplings cooked in a Chinese hot pot. For my cooking broth, I used a homemade beef stock, the recipe of which I'll post at a later date. I also included some thinly sliced beef rib eye to round out the flavor and noodles (not shown) for long life.



Long leafy greens are eaten to wish long life for a person's parents. The leaves should not be cut, since that would symbolize cutting short your parents' lives. This year, I decided to use Thai basil. The leaves were plucked whole from the stems placed in the hot pot, adding additional depth to the broth.



I also purchased meatballs for my hot pot. Meatballs symbolize happy reunions for the whole family, and the hope that all family members will be able to meet again for the next New Year. This is another mainstay of my family's New Year's feast and particularly poignant for me, since my family was scattered this year.



Mushrooms are believed to help fulfill the good wishes of the diner, which is why I include them in my hot pot. My family usually gets enokitake mushrooms. This year, I bought giant shimeiji mushrooms because Cat thought they'd be fun to eat. They were, although they were really meaty. I also included limes to be used in flavoring the broth, and for the reasons listed in the next section.



Citrus fruits are always included in the meal, since it's believed that they bring luck. As with the oranges on my table, they'll often be provided in groupings of eight, since the Cantonese word for "eight" has the exact same sound as the word for "prosperity". The citrus fruits therefore represent luck and prosperity for the family, and are eaten near the end of the meal.



A traditional New Year dessert is the Nian Gao (Sticky Cake), which is a sweet, steamed cake made with rice flour. As with the daikon cake, the Nian Gao is sliced into blocks and fried to crisp the outside and soften the inside before eating. This one contained red dates, which symbolize early prosperity and all good things. I picked it up from the Champion Foods in Irvine. It had been made the night before, and was delightful.



Another traditional New Year dessert is Ba Bao Fan (Eight Treasures Rice), which is a sweet rice dish made with glutinous rice and topped with eight different symbolic delicacies. This store-bought one had a red date for early prosperity, candied tangerine peels for luck, candied coconut for togetherness, candied kumquats for gold, longans for many sons, lotus seeds for children, red bean paste for luck, and lychees for a strong family tree.



After the meal, tea is served and diners pick from a selection of candied snacks. The meal always ends with these sweets in the hopes that the family will have a sweet year. The snack trays are always store-bought, since making the snacks is a long, involved process.



But what about the evil monster? Well, fireworks aren't allowed in Irvine, so this was the best I could do. Take that, Nian!

I hope you all enjoyed reading about some of my family's traditional eats for the Chinese New Year. Once again, have a happy New Year!

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Red Onion Cafe (Final Bow) - Irvine, CA [Crazies]

(I've got a great review ready for my Save Our Faves 2007 campaign, but I wanted to take a moment to honor a restaurant that's been a valued part of my rotation for over eight years. My Save Our Faves 2007 post will go up Tuesday night instead.)



Tonight, the Red Onion Cafe closed its doors for good. In a few weeks, it will be replaced by a new Korean BBQ restaurant that I look forward to sampling. Although I'll continue to mourn the passing of one of my favorite mom & pops, I should also give the new mom & pop that's opening in its place a fair shake.

This post, however, isn't about the end of a great Taiwanese eatery. Instead, it's about celebrating the life of a beloved, family-run establishment that nourished the bodies and souls of its patrons for over eleven years. Not a bad run in the Darwinian restaurant business.



Since it was the Red Onion Cafe's closing night, Cat and I decided to show our support and have a last dinner there. The cafe was offering meal sets of half-price as customer appreciation specials to thank their loyal clientele, many of whom had shown up to help close out. The place was hopping. The wait staff could barely keep up with all the orders.



As usual, we started out with the chitterlings. Deep-fried slices of pork intestines redolent with salt and pig-fat goodness. Artery-clogging, but what the hell? We weren't going to get another chance.



Cat really wanted to have one last taste of her favorite Taiwanese boiled dumplings, which were stuffed with chives and ground pork.



I got a triple order of the Red Onion Cafe's xiao long bao. Delightful morsels with resilient skin barely held back a tide of flavorful broth and pork filling in these amazing treats. The best xiao long bao in Irvine. I'm going to miss them.



Cat couldn't let the night end without an order of their Orange Peel Chicken. The use of Taiwanese fermented orange peel in this dish gave it a complexity and body unmatched anywhere else. Cat's been ordering this dish for close to eight years. Tonight's was as good as the first time she tried it.



The side dishes in Cat's meal set were the usual assortment of fresh, seasonal vegetables. Tonight's offerings were braised bamboo shoots and stir-fried Taiwanese cabbage.



I ordered the best noodle soup in the house. Thick dan dan noodles frolicked in a rich Taiwanese pork broth with bean sprouts and cilantro. Shrimp, a braised egg, a fish meatball, and a pork meatball provided tasty accents to this classic dish from the city of Tainan.



After our meal, Cat spoke with the manager, and he presented us with one of the cafe's embroidered aprons as a keepsake. I gave him one of my business cards as asked him to contact me when his family opened up their next restaurant. I don't know if they will, but I live in eternal hope.

The Red Onion Cafe may be gone now, but while it existed, it was a place of comfort and warmth. For me, it will always be the place where a homesick young panda took solace as he adjusted to his first year of college and life hundreds of miles away from his family. I'll always have a special place in my heart for it, along with pictures, an apron, and enough sweet memories to last a lifetime.

So long, old friend. Thank you and goodbye.


Previous Posts About the Red Onion Cafe:

• Red Onion Cafe - Irvine, CA [Eating]


• Farewell Red Onion - Irvine, CA [OC Food Blogs]

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